Lewis Mundt
Album Review: Brand New's "Daisy",
or, I think I want to write you a love letter but I've forgotten your name
(Track 5, You Stole, erasure)
If she should know anything, it is
Album Review: Brand New's "Daisy",
or, I think I want to write you a love letter but I've forgotten your name
(Track 5, You Stole, erasure)
Last night they said the fire had spread
And we
said our prayers
And now
the flames are burning me in my bed,
But
I
just don't care
We all go to
sleep
in the same place
And
i
n the morning
hope
that
we're
all
the same
Just sit around like
broke down cars
in the lot
Waiting for repairs
There you go
There it goes...
Well
I wish
that
I was
as
good
as you
Caring and trusting
And I
wish that my
condition was
new
but I'm old and
rusting
So we just hurry up only to
wait
Add to the list of all the places we hate
And I pretend like
I
got something to say
But I've got
no
wait no
this is not our song
let me say what I need to say
no you don't get to tell me what I said
now I get to say what I said
said nothing and still you
stole away
stop
these words won't be put into my mouth again.
two years since silent mutiny i've been spinning wheel,
loose rudder half-mast tribute 21-gun salute
of blanks and no, not today. today, no, no,
won't pretend i'm still here singing without you, won't
smile grateful for the time we had. fuck the time we had.
fuck
once, years ago, i saw a bull break free from a slaughterhouse.
he took on two trucks on main street, spitting fire and snot.
it's taken me this long to try to love myself the way
i loved that bull, all final fight and running, the way
he looked into my eyes like we had something
to say to each other right before they shot him dead
on the golf course. today i hear it:
they haven't killed us yet, boy.
they can't kill us 'til they kill us.
If she should know anything, it is
that I'd live here,
on this plane above
whatever's halfway
between Portland
and Minneapolis—
not that I can't
figure that out,
look at a map,
check a screen
to see where we are,
what's on the news,
who won the games,
how warm it is—
it's just that here
is her hand
on my head,
my eyes closed,
her lungs lifting up
my everything
and catching it
on the way down
every time.